


Gold (King AU)

by SimplySyra



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement City, Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:46:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplySyra/pseuds/SimplySyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyrite crowns go falling down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold (King AU)

The sky is a bloody scream of fire, torn through with the hot heavy steam of flame-licked winds. It burns and bleeds, clouds boiling beneath its empyrean death throes and shedding brimstone tears in a rain of shrieking fire.

And through it all the Trickster dances, his feet twisting like tongues of flame leaving no print upon the heavy layers of still-smoking ash that muffle the ground. He is become once more the Lord of Ash and Smoke, his gaping grin a groaning chasm brimming with light and heat and death. And upon his smoldering head the Maker’s crown twice stolen, glinting gold and crimson with the violence of murder and revenge.

He finds the last living thing tangled in a half melted pool of his own armor, rooted in place like a grotesque statue sculpted from flesh and metal. The Trickster’s laughter rings out bright and broken, like blistered skin, like bruises filled with blood.

The other is silent, could even be dead but for the cold constant pressure of those flat hungry eyes howling out from beneath the cavern of a crown-less brow. And even with flames licking at every corner of the world, the ground here is frozen, trapped in an eternal winter that no fire will ever thaw.

“Ah, so it’s you, my friend” murmurs the Trickster. “I should have known. I’d give you a hand, but you know what they say…” His face splits, the skin of his lips cracking as the crackling heat of his mirth crawls out from its prison of flesh. "Fool me once…“ 

He waves thin hands across his captive’s face, the jagged white scars on his wrists flashing like vengeful lightning. "Suffice to say, I won’t be making that mistake again.”

The bow he draws is not of wood and sinew. It burns and writhes beneath his fingers, its curve the wild panicked contortions of a cornered animal, its arrow a crackling electric flame. It screams when he looses it, fleeing the devastating heat of its master, punching through armor like paper and burying itself with a dying hiss into the relative relief of cool flesh.

Instead of blood, a torrent of laughter bursts forth from his victim’s body.

The Mad King laughs even as ice-rimmed shadows leak from numb wounds and paint a tapestry of starless nights against the pale flickering ash. “You know what they also say,” he chuckles as his voice fades into a strangled whisper. “About a fool… and his gold…”

**Author's Note:**

> The scars on the Trickster's wrists are a reference to my fic "Loophole."


End file.
